A Face in the Waves
by Loreley Song
Summary: As Cate finds herself in the company of two men, that are slightly familiar. She tries to recall how, and why she is with them. As the answers to her past start to surface, it is accompanied with the fear of deeds done in a forgotten world. This is an addaptation of Hans Christain Anderson's "The Mermaid", and Disney's "The Little Mermaid. I will update a new chapter every Friday.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

The sea is lonely, the sea is dreary, The sea is restless and uneasy; Thou seekest quiet, thou art weary, Wandering thou knowest not whither;— Our little isle is green and breezy, Come and rest thee! Oh come hither, Come to this peaceful home of ours, Where evermore The low west-wind creeps panting up the shore To be at rest among the flowers; Full of rest, the green moss lifts, As the dark waves of the sea Draw in and out of rocky rifts, Calling solemnly to thee With voices deep and hollow,— "To the shore Follow! Oh, follow! To be at rest forevermore! Forevermore!"

-James Russell Lowell

Truth fades from stories told down the years. What was once fact and warning seemed to have transformed into a breathtaking superstition. Once known, has now been forgotten.

In the beginning two types of men were created, one to live on land, and one to live in the sea. A warning was made; they could never cross worlds, for love and life could not last for long between such different worlds.

Men would live a number of days and then go to the Creator to account for them. Mermen had a measure of love to be used; but when all had been taken, they would become sea foam. As centuries passed the mermen became avaricious with their love. They lived on eternally never giving their love away.

As they watched men on land the mermen became jealous, seeing men's lives full of love, and they were fearless of death. In envious anger the mermaids would lure men to rocks and steal their lives. Their bait; love and haunting music, sung in unearthly sweetness.

But not all were this way. One mermaid found this life unbearable- a long life filled with emptiness. Once while her sisters were singing to a ship she saw a face, and knew she had to love him. But how could she ask to exchange her love for life?

* * *

The Beginning

A sweet soft sound was made as the grass gently swayed in the evening wind, making the sunlight and shadows softly dance. The deep golden color of the wheat was darkly contrasted by the emerald green it grew over, making the gentle slopes of the rolling hills alive. In the distance the ocean spread it twinkling expanse of waves to where the orange sky came down to meet it. This was always Cate's favorite time to sit and watch, somehow comforted her. Wisps of her dark curly hair blew in breeze, gently touching her face. Pulling the loose strands behind her ears, she closed her eyes, listening. The waves of the sea spoke to her, reminding her of her choice. Smiling she leaned her slight body against her favorite tree. A feeling of contentment, love, and the joy of being alive welled up in her, which was odd, since it would all soon be over. Sighing she opened her eyes again, knowing soon she would have to tell him. She had such little time left. As her eyes wandered over the hills again, a spark of remembrance came over her. Yes, this was the time to remember why it was worth her love, why he was worth her life. She let her mind wander to the first thing she remembered; a face...

Darkness had filled her till her very soul was chilled with it. Something stirred in the despair; a small light filled her for a second, and then was gone causing the darkness to be even more desolate than before. But the light came again, this time with warmth; the darkness retreated like a morning fog giving way to day. Becoming conscious of a jolting and the sound of hooves, opening her eyes to a face looking down at her, she heard a voice. Confusion ran through her, she had no idea what was going on. Closing her eyes she tried to clear her mind. She was in a carriage the wheels rolling over the bumps in the road. Slowly she opened her eyes, across from her was not only one face but two, which held no resemblance toward one another.

One was very pleasant; he had auburn curly hair, and a nice smile. He had a scar on his left cheek, a little under his eye, and his skin was weatherworn. A stubble chin indicated that it had been awhile since his last shave, but it somehow suited his roughness. It wasn't until she noticed his eyes that she seemed to remember him from somewhere. His familiar eyes seemed to go into her heart and ease her pain.

The other face was incredibly handsome; it made her breath catch in her throat. He had wavy black hair, with eyes to match. But there seemed to be a kind of vacancy in them. He had not noticed her watching him until his companion commented on her awakening. She watched as the dark haired man turned and assessed her without interest and then turned and resumed to look out the window for the rest of the journey, humming a tune she could almost hear.

She looked out her window; they seemed to be traveling through a forest, dark and cool. Suddenly they broke through the barrier of trees, and the sun came streaming its happy bright rays onto the loveliest place she had ever seen. Low rolling hills, dancing with golden wheat drew up before them. Cypress trees lined the road as they drove up a curve in a hill. As they rounded the bend, a mansion glowed in the sunlight, with the turquoise sea sparkling behind. The whole scene was breathtaking. Everywhere she looked she saw something even more beautiful than the last. The estate complemented the landscape like a crowning jewel.

They stopped at the entrance, as she stepped out, the smell of flowers lingered on the breeze. As she was enjoying the fragrance a thought came over her, where was she, and how did it happen that she was with these two men? Fear griped her as she vainly tried to remember anything before waking to the two faces; nothing, nothing at all came into her memory. The beautiful house and glistening sea started swirling around her until an arm reached out and pulled her toward him.

"Easy there my lass, let's go into the house." The soft eyed man spoke to her with a voice as gentle as if she were his child. His voice was intoxicating she wanted him to keep speaking to her, his calming tone washed over her. She looked at him as he spoke and all her fears were eased. She was where she needed to be. He smiled a lopsided grin to reassure her.

"My name is Rory, and may I ask," He looked down at her and seemed to change his mind, "Perhaps my questions should wait until you have settled a bit." He started to whistle as he lightly walked her down the massive entry. Two curved marble stair cases greeted them at the end of the entry. He took her to the left one to the second floor. They walked what seemed to be an endless amount of corridors until he opened a door and told her it was her room. A window of the sea was the first thing she saw, she walked over to it and looked out at the expanse of the blue twinkling water. She watched the waves come in and go back out, as if disappointed in the land; they hurried back to where they were supposed to be. She hadn't realized that Rory had left, or even that it was now well past sunset, until a maid came in and started lighting the room. She jumped when the maid spoke, informing her the men were waiting to have dinner with her.

Leaving the room she wandered back down the way she came until she heard voices. Something about them made her pause and listen.

"Why would you tell me this?" The voice was cold and distant.

"I thought it might help you, with your …eh struggle, you seem to be having with yourself, Raphael." Rory's smooth voice was calm.

"You never use my full name, you must really think I am lost, but I don't have a '_struggle_' as you call it. Not as it seems you do." She could feel the chill spill from his words as he continued. "Is this girl even safe here from you?" Her heart sank as she thought about what he meant. A memory of realization tried to surface but quickly disappeared. She knew she had to stay, she had to fix something, her life depended on it, but why or what, she could not remember. The voices continued.

"I told you to help you Phel, not so you would reprimand or despise me. I told you so you would know others have the similar problems."

"You have shown me how weak you are, and how this girl living here is a monstrous mistake. Don't presume you understand my flaws or struggles, I am not in a struggle!" The man's voice was strained and desperate. The voices ceased and she entered the room. The fragrance of a savory meal drew her into the room, realizing how hungry she was. As the men saw her enter, Rory stood politely as a servant pushed her chair in for her, the man he called Phel stood just enough to acknowledge her presence. He sat with a dark brooding expression on his face.

"Do you find you quarters to your satisfaction?" Rory looked at her with interest. She made no reply besides a small smile. After a few futile attempts at conversation, Rory despaired and turned his attention to his delicious meal. The rest of the meal was spent in with each person lost to their own thoughts.

She spent this time studying the very different two men that sat before her. The dark broody one obviously went by the name Phel, played with his food, and didn't eat much. His clothes which were finely made fit him loosely as if he had recently lost weight. He had beautiful skin that glowed like the sun had reached down and kissed it. He ate a bite, and chewed as if forgetting he had food in his mouth. His brows were furrowed in thought and his hair fell down onto his forehead. He was lost; she thought to herself, as the memory again swam to the front of her mind, even as she tried to reach for it, it slipped away. She came back to the present and found him staring back at her. His eyes were locked with hers, reaching for her to save him. She gazed in to the fathomless depth of them, trying to find him. A faint breath of a song came into her thoughts, as it grew stronger fear gripped her heart with its cold fingers. She remembered.


	2. Chapter 2

A week passed in a similar silent fashion, and the tension became so intense it was hard to have meals together. Phel would conveniently disappear at supper. Rory was always prompt and attentive, he tried to find a conversation that would bring the girl out of her shell. Nothing seemed to work. He had to be patient; he had to prove to Phel that he could control himself. He thought about her, it was a laughable assumption that he would even be interested in her in _that_ way. She was so plain, so simple, and just, (in a word) boring. She had not spoken since they had found her. He recalled that first supper while she was eating. She was watching Phel when all at once, her face drained of color and she looked as if she was going to faint. All week she tried to avoid, both Phel and himself. She, however, was not his main concern at this point.

His and Phel's friendship seemed to be slipping from his hands, ever since Phel's birthday celebration. Why had they decided to have it on a ship when they knew the weather was turning? It had been a horrid night from almost the start; it still gave him nightmares. He would hear a loud noise and he would instantly be back on the ship, drenched in rain, surrounded by nothing but the agonizing noise of the storm. The ship tossing back and forth, the men scrambling to hold onto whatever they could catch, shouts lost in the massive sound of the ocean. Cake went flying and the decorations were ruined in the downpour. The ship was only alight for brief seconds before the darkness engulfed everything, along with devastating cracks of thunder. He watched men being eaten by the swollen monstrous waves.

To his horror he watched Phel slipping from the railing as he was trying to secure his lifeline; Phel was about to be swept into the sea. Screaming into the storm, Rory found himself scrambling in the darkness to help his friend. Without warning the ship sharply turned, almost falling on its side, just as his feet slipped out from under him, he grabbed the rail with all his might. Lightning struck and as the whole ship was lit, he saw Phel again for a split second, and then devastating darkness fell. Again he tried to move toward where Phel had been. A rogue rope struck him on the left cheekbone. Struggling d Rory moved forward unabashed, blood and rain dripping from his face, but when the lightning crashed again the spot was empty. Rory tried to find him in the brief seconds of light but Phel was gone.

"Sir, there is a letter for you." The housekeeper interrupted his thoughts and he gave his head a little shake to come back to the present.

"Yes thank you Mrs. Fellows." He smiled at her as he took his letter hoping for some good news.

After he had come to realize that Phel was lost overboard, Rory had felt he moved in silent slow motion trying to help the other men secure themselves. When the storm had ceased they found that three men had gone overboard. Struck with the grief of his friend he loved as a brother, he knew he must return to their home.

He stayed at an inn on the coast to recover and rest before making arrangements for his journey, when a story caught his attention, as he was ordering his meal. An old seaman was talking to a chum of his over tea.

"A man's been found nr'ly dead."

The chum replied "Aye 'ems the lucky 'ons been found alive. Not many do find the shore 'tafter ta night like last."

"Too true, but this 'ons different, 'ees been found on ta shore of te convent." The old man took his pipe out and stuffed tobacco in it after tapping out the old. He lit it and sucked in the sweet smelling smoke. He sat back in his chair while his chum mused over the information he had just been given. Rory saw the puzzlement in his face, and it gave him pause. Finally he blurted out.

"Oh good God, get on with it! Why, why is it different, who is this man?" The two men taken back with the outburst turned slowly and looked in disbelief taking his pipe out of his mouth the old man pointed at him with it, as if to make his point.

"Why 'cause ya 'ave to swim in to get ta 'at cove, and many a good strong swimmer drown try'n." He replaced his pipe to his mouth with a slight click as the wood hit his pipe tooth, as he thumped the chair arm with his fist.

"But how?" Rory asked in disbelief, "You say he was nearly drowned?"

"Aye, 'ats ta sound of et. No 'ons knows 'em. Was no more conscious then a dead fish! Ahah" He gave a wheezy laugh. "'nd when you figure 'at out laddie, tell us 'ow ee did et!" They both chuckled and went back to each other's company.

He asked for the way to the convent and set out at once. To his intense relief, he found Phel there, but: an extremely altered Phel. For weeks afterward the only sound Phel made was an eerie tune he tried to sing. When he did start speaking, he only spoke of a face, not sure if it was real or imaginary. Phel was obsessed with his phantom savior.

After finding Phel in this state, Rory had done all he could to find this person who could perhaps shed some insight on the events of Phel's rescue. Rory interviewed all the nuns, but none of them could swim. He wrote letters to all the residents of the area.

This letter had been the last response, it said the same as all the others; 'We regret to inform you that we had no hand in saving your friend, although we rejoice with you in his recovery.' It was hopeless, and now he had no idea where to turn. Rory rubbed his rough stubble chin, scrunching his forehead as he sighed; he threw away his final hope. He was so tired of feeling so helpless, especially toward his friend.

Looking out the window, he knew that he had better go find Phel, but he was so weary he didn't want to face him now. Phel was probably in his tree anyway. It was a place Phel had begun to visit frequently, presumably to get away, to hum his tune. Rory was sick of Phel brooding, and humming that creepy tune over and over, never ceasing as if his life depended on it. He felt punchy; he knew if he heard it one more time he could not be held responsible for his actions.

He, Rory, was never the one to be responsible. Phel had always been the practical dependable one. Once Phel had been the very pinnacle of style, now he looked as if he didn't know how to do up his own boots, he was unshaven and uncoordinated. It was this last fact that scared him the most. He wanted a drink. Rum always made him feel a little braver. He sighed again rubbing his chin. Better not think of rum, he had sworn to himself he wouldn't. Now _that _was a stupid thing to do, why even try? He knew all he would do was fall into a failure of a promise he couldn't keep. He went to the liquor cabinet.

Rory lay in a stupor at his desk. He awoke with a start. What was going on? What time was it? Where was he? What woke him? He remembered; as he was jarred awake by the girl shaking him. With a worried face she didn't speak, but she pointed. Rory woke a little more, wiping the drool from his mouth and cheek, he looked up at her. What was she going on about? He tried asking her but she covered his mouth and cupped a hand around her ear. He had been trying to stand but was stuck in an awkward half sitting stance with her hand on his mouth, he paused and listened.

He heard it; Phel's eerie song coming trickling into the room, but this time it was complete and undeniably beautiful. It felt as if the ocean currents came with it. A desire to follow the song came over him swiftly and completely, he stood up quickly and started to obey his feelings, all he could think was the loveliness of the music and how he must find it. A hand grabbed his and pulled him back. He looked down at an anxious expression. She shook her head, and tugged his arm away from the haunting music. He struggled for a second, than giving into her persistence, let her lead him away. When the notes faded till he could no longer hear them, his brain cleared of something different from the effects of the liquid comfort. Reality seemed dull and tedious as his wits, or most of them, came back to him.

"What was that" he asked "Why did it make me feel like that?"

No reply, she looked at him intensely and shook her head. He knew she was warning against going where he could hear that song again. She smiled and left.

That has to be the oddest girl I have ever met, he thought to himself, and Phel thought she may not be safe with me. Hah! With that thought he went to his room, to go to bed, and put the day's events behind him.

The strangeness of the previous day carried into the next. His _first _thoughts were about this strange girl, for indeed, she was a foreign being, completely different from anything or anyone he known before. He had to stop calling her "the girl". He'd think of something later. Now he needed to gather his thoughts and figure out what had happened last night. The events of the previous night hadn't felt so strange until he woke with a clear head. He felt the draw of the music and it had left its echo in his head. He went to the library to immerse himself into any information books could shed some light on, about the area where Phel had gone overboard. The place where Phel had first hummed that song; it must be the origin of all the weird events that had taken place since.

He reached the library, and selected an atlas. Studying the area's geography, he realized the small town had been around long before the surrounding villages. The atlas showed the population to be even smaller than other close-by fishing villages. Why would that be? Why had it not grown more? Considering the amount of time it had been around, one would assume it would be a thriving city that the surrounding villages would use for support. It seemed to be roughly the same size as it was since it was first founded.

He looked for another book about the village, but nothing. Odd that Phel's vast library had nothing on this village, specifically because this was his favorite place to sail, hence the place for his birthday cruise. He leaned against the cool marble hearth and looked at the fire. How could Phel have such a strong relationship with this village and yet keep no books on the history? Phel kept history about every place he ever went. He had always made it a joke to Phel about being so educated on any place they ever went. Phel would have spent weeks researching and preparing for a trip, it was part of who he was. Why was there so little information about his favorite place?

He rubbed his face and sighed, knitting his brows together, trying to piece this puzzle together, deep in thought he looked up into the design of the hearth. He had never noticed before the hearths marble had an intricate scene carved into it. It was a beautiful scene of a ship lost at sea in a storm, 'ironic' he mused to himself. There were graceful mermaids looking on and whales playing in the big breakers. His eyes rolled over the ship and chills came over him. It was as if the artist watched their own ship from afar in the storm that took Phel overboard. It was the exact replica of that night down to the very last detail on the ship. The way the storm hung down and the waves grabbed at the hull of their ship as if trying to bring it down to the deepest fathoms. There were the ripped sheets billowing in the wind; and, here Rory felt his heart leap to his throat; on the leeward side of the ship, a man falling into roiling depths below. He tried to calm himself thinking that all storms must look this way from a distance. Taking a deep breath, he looked up at the painting over the hearth. His heart stopped as he cried out as if someone had knocked the wind from his lungs.

He was staring into the deep dark eyes of the girl.


	3. Chapter 3

(Authors note: It may help to reread the first chapter)

Chap 3 Dreams

He was lost; she thought to herself, as the memory again swam to the front of her mind, even as she tried to reach for it, it slipped away. She came back to the present and found him staring back at her. His eyes were locked with hers, reaching for her to save him. She gazed in to the fathomless depth of them, trying to find him. A faint breath of a song came into her thoughts, as it grew stronger fear gripped her heart with its cold fingers. Her dinner disappeared from in front of her. The silent men, the extravagant room, ceased to exist.

She remembered….. She was back, in the heart of the storm, with the feeling of the warm body she held close to her chest. The man's beautiful face was so peaceful in the chaos around them. She swam hard all night to save him, 'you will be fine, you will be safe', she whispered over and over. When they had finally reached her destination, an isolated cove, he was almost dead. Holding him in her arms she sang to him. The song she sang was powerful, and she knew it would heal him, although the tune would ultimately rule his life. She had chosen to break the one rule that was sacred: never touch a human. Even her movement was a hypnotizing melody to any human who happened to see her. Her song and touch would surely drive him insane. Making her choice; she sang on, hoping she was not too late. When his breath finally came to his lips, she was weary, and weak. She laid him down. Jumping back into the refreshing water, she waited nearby until one of the nuns came out of the convent in the cove, and found the beautiful man.

The room came back into focus. The men were still eating. Along with her memories of the storm, came the reason she was here: Love. She loved him so much; she knew she would have to save Raphael from the obsession she had started, or _he_ would never love her. She gazed at him with longing, wondering how she would know how long she had with him. She knew she had only so much love to give. A voice echoed in her mind. "You will know you have given all your love, when the desire to speak the words "I love you" can be held back no more."

The supper that had once smelled delicious, now had lost all appeal to her. Knowing now what had to be done, she knew her dreams would unlock the past, all of their pasts. She knew her own past was a nightmare to live through once, twice would be unbearable; this was a pain she must face if she were to unlock the hidden secrets of the two men before her. She had to go back to their beginnings, although she didn't know it yet, but in Raphael's case, before. Placing her fork gently down by her plate, she stood and walked the long way back to her room. Her mind dwelling on what the night might entail.

Time passed unchecked as she lay on her bed. She neither feared, nor looked forward to her night. As the minutes ticked by she tried to calm down. The fear of her past had eased into an excitement she had never felt before. She was here! Now her challenge was to set things right. She didn't realize her eyes were getting heavy, and her breathing became slow, quietly sleep overcame her….

Bright colors came to her eyes. Quick happy music danced in her ears, making her feet want to move. Smells of delicious food surrounded and filled her. Beautiful bronze skinned people passed by talking and laughing. She was in a market place. A group of men watched some women dancing. Children ran and played in the grass nearby. Older people sat in stalls selling goods and gossiping. Life, wonderful happy life! When the group of woman stopped dancing, a man approached one, the most beautiful one. She smiled a lovely smile in recognition. He had blonde hair and a sunburnt face. He took her hand and led her away.

Her name was Eva. Eva was the very meaning of the word Woman. She had beautiful dark creamy skin, large black eyes, and a sultry smile. Damp with perspiration from dancing, tendrils of hair fell out of a thick knot, at the base of her neck. Eva was radiant. The man she was with, Levi, beamed at her. He wasn't exactly old or young, he seemed to be timeless. They were an odd couple, he had nothing in the way of appearance to offer, but a slightly below average face, and hunched shoulders as if trying to shorten the distance from his love. His clothes were well made, but worn. They walked the streets hand in hand with the gleam of love in their eyes.

As she dreamed of Eva and Levi, the girl felt as if Eva's face was familiar to her. The dream continued…

Levi had wooed Eva with his love of poetry, and fantastic stories. He would take her to romantic places and read Keats, and Tennyson. Being a seaman, his beautiful tales were mostly of the sea and his adventures. He told of strange and wonderful places that for Eva could only be a dream. Places that had blankets of snow in the winter, lands of rains and mountains. Animals he had encountered that were as big as houses. These tales caused her to return for more again and again, until he had won her heart. Soon she saw him, not as a plain man, but as a man that was as exciting as his stories.

Levi had taught her to read and write. For this Eva's love was undying. But for Eva a shadow was cast. Eva had always been poor, and had found the only employment she could. As a young beautiful girl options were limited, she soon found herself taking money from a man as payment for use of her body, and company. She had grown to like him, he was not unkind and she knew he loved her dearly. She felt resigned to pain him, but she was helpless to the pull Levi had over her. With a great deal of effort, she felt compelled to withhold the truth of her past from Levi. If he found out she felt sure she would lose him.

Levi had left home at a young age, his parents had not thought him proper for acting on his desire to explore the sea, and had wept at his departure. Levi never saw them again. A letter had caught up to him in France, informing him of his parent's sudden death from an outbreak of yellow fever. Most of their tenants also had been taken ill. Being young he fled this misery with distance. Years had passed, and he never had returned. As he grew more mature he realized he had to uphold his responsibilities. On his trip home he had met Eva. Eva had become everything to him. She was the reason the sun rose each morning. Without her life, would cease to exist. He stayed to woo her.

One lovely evening, as the sun set, having decided it was time to go home, Levi asked his love for her hand in marriage. She said yes and they were away. She had had no idea of his wealth. His estate on a hill overlooking the ocean was heavenly. Cypress trees stood tall in the gardens which decorated the grounds. She fell in love with this dream life.

Eva was a wonderful mistress, she was kind to all. Soon she won over the staff and tenants trust with her soft quite ways. The estate blossomed and flourished. They had six years of utter happiness and in those years a beautiful child: A boy was born. He had his mother's loveliness, and his father's love of stories and the sea. They named in Raphael, "God has healed". For they felt healed of past hurts, and complete in their love for each other.

But the cloud had fallowed them. One night while Levi and Raphael were out sailing, the man came. Not knowing what had happened to her, after her sudden departure, he set out to find her. It took him years to follow her trail. When he did find her, not a slave to an unkind man as he had imagined, but a mistress of a dream, rage filled his heart. He asked her to come with him, she declined. In a fit of passion he killed her.

When Levi and Raphael came home, Levi found his beloved wife in a pool of her own blood. Knowing he could not live without her, he had the servants take the child. He left only a note to his precious son.

Raphael was taken to a convent down the coast near a small fishing village, to be raised by the Sisters (As was specified in the letter from his father). He grew up quickly, in the shadow of his parent's death. Without his parents love to warm him, his heart grew cold and suspicious of emotion. He was polite and courteous to all, but never warm. The Sisters would laugh at this, and felt that in time he would grow out of such behavior. But he never did. After years of practice, he soon realized he didn't have to try anymore. The walls he had built around his heart were permanent.

One thing he could not deny was a desire for the sea. When he was 16 years old, he followed in the steps of his father. He ran away from the convent and found employment on a fishing vessel. He had never seen the letter from his father. He had no idea that when he turned 18 he would inherit his father's estate. Grieved and shocked the Sisters never ceased praying for his return. Raphael had only intended to be gone a few weeks, but as the weeks went by they flowed into months. Months passed quickly and soon it had been a year, and that year turned into two and then three. And soon Raphael forgot he needed to go home, he had found a friend, and Rory was exactly what he needed; fun.

The girl awoke with the thoughts of the two men fresh on her mind. This was going to take more work then she had thought. But how could she possibly warm a heart so full of ice?


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Raphael

Raphael was back up in his tree. It was a great spot to be by one's self. He was high enough to see all the comings and goings of his house, not that he took much interest in those things now. He looked out at the sea without seeing it.

His thoughts were only of a song. Each breath he took was laced with the melody in his mind; it was him, just as any part of his body. He couldn't remember a time when this music was not in him. With that thought he paused, and pondered; when had he first heard it? He tried to get his thoughts in order, through the fog of his memories he remembered first a stormy night, slipping and falling, in a storm. The next thing he remembered was a beautiful face holding him close and music. The music seemed to come from this woman, he could feel her lips moving but all he heard was music. His next memory was of waking in a room full of light a young lady holding his hand. She was dressed in a habit, must be a nun, he had thought. Her eyes were so full of life they put fire into his heart. He smiled at her, she smiled back easily. He remembered thinking it must be nice to able to smile so easily.

Days must have passed in that room, but just brief glimpses came to the surface of his mind. He gave no thoughts to where Rory had been or where the music had come. He just knew he had to master the notes that were swimming in his mind.

He watched the sun sparkling on the surf. The beautiful day was lost to him, as the song tormented him. He had lost all interest in life. He knew he looked it, but it didn't matter now, nothing mattered except for the _song_. If he could only remember how it went, he knew he could find her. It would call to her; his beautiful savior.

How could Rory even think about comparing his small infatuations with women, to his great love? It had been so pathetic that Rory had confessed his 'secret' problems as if Phelle hadn't known. He had inferred this struggle was something to be rid of, an inconvenience. No, Rory had no idea that this made him alive. This song gave Raphael life, life he had never known before. Before he had always been afraid, afraid of strong desires, he could never take life freely as Rory had.

Raphael knew he had hidden behind a mask of fashion and style. Perfection was his wall, self-righteousness his excuse to not let anyone near. He didn't need anyone; relationships were all imperfect and full of pain.

Rory had somehow broken through his barriers. But Rory admitted he was flawed and never directed any emotion deeper than fun toward Phelle. Slowly Rory had won his trust and became a brother toward him; somehow knowing the other person in a relationship knew they were flawed made them easier to trust. Rory had never hurt him. Not like his parents, through their love for each other they killed his desire to love at all.

The music gave him now invoked all his desire. He knew he loved this girl, no she was so much more than a girl; this _goddess_. She was everything to him. He put his fingers on the smooth ivory keys, and played. Raphael's mind surfaced for a second out of the fog of obsession. For a brief second he wondered why was he at the piano inside, wasn't he just in his tree? The thought fled quickly as his fingers started to play and the notes came alive. At last he found a release from the tortured days and weeks. Fantastic colors flew up before his eyes. Laughing as the song sang on so beautifully almost on its own accord, he knew she could hear, he knew she would come. Even that revelation was pale compared to this feeling of complete ecstasy. He smiled knowing he had found _it_, he was in the midst of utter perfection.

She came to him with the morning light. He had played until his fingers bled, and then went on singing, as best he could, until he had no voice. Sleep had claimed him, and he was aroused by his perfect song, coming from a voice he knew well. He opened his eyes to see his goddess approaching him; she took his hand in hers, and kissed it gently. Her lips felt warm and soft. Her dark green eyes danced in the mornings light and she spoke, "let go, I release you". A tear ran down his cheek as the full meaning of her words hit him. "But I love you" was all he could pathetically say. She touched his cheek and spoke softly. "I am not yours to love."

Raphael jumped awake, his head felt as if he had been drinking all night with Rory. A dream seemed to struggle into his mind but he ignored it. The day was old, why had he slept so long? Looking in his mirror he saw a shadow of the man he once had been. What had happened to him?

While shaving, he recalled his dream but it didn't make since to him. To lose his grip on sanity so completely, wasn't like him. He must have hit his head in that storm. Rory would know the details. Where was Rory? Quickly he finished shaving. He washed and tried to make himself presentable, it was hard to do since he had lost so much weight. Nothing fit right; he would have to have his clothes taken in. Concern started to surface. "I have to find Rory." He ran out his room and down the stairs to the dining hall. The staff stared at him as he entered.

"Am I too early Mrs. Fellows?" He asked concerned at her reaction.

"No Sir, I will just inform the staff you will have your meal here instead of your quarters this evening."

"Yes, yes," he said trying to brush off the irregularity of her statement. He went to sit in his seat and realized instead of Rory, a dark haired girl sat at the hall table. She smiled barely looking at him. She kept her gaze on her place setting.

"Mrs. Fellows," he asked hesitantly, "Where is Rory this evening?"

"Didn't he tell you? He must 'ov left too fast. He just said he had to go. Didn't say when he'd be back. I'm sure the young lady may tell you more, she was with him before he left." With that the servers came in and soup was served.

He had never felt comfortable with women. If at all possible he avoided speaking with them. Having been raised by nuns, it was set in him that girls were a secret to which only immoral men sought to unlock. He sat gracefully and played with his soup. He looked over at the young girl and saw she still sat with her hands folded in her lap staring at her soup bowl. He sipped the soup silently. Without Rory's usual easy banter the silence became unbearably uncomfortable.

"I don't think we've met, please forgive my rude behavior. My name is Raphael, or Phel by Rory. I am a little confused as to where he has gone off to." He smiled gently at her. She looked so fragile and small. As the moments marched on he started to think she wouldn't answer, he took another sip of soup trying not to press her. Hoping she would speak.

"He has gone to sort out the source of the issue." Her voice was so smooth and even, it was lower than he had thought it would be. Like smooth, dark drinking chocolate, or a good wine. Her tone was all he could concentrate on until the words struck him.

"What 'issue'?" He began to become uneasy, this girl seemed to see through him. What if this dream was more real than he had initially thought? He cast his worry aside, he had to find out and she seemed to be the only one who could shed some light on the mystery. But something else came to his mind; why didn't she leave with Rory? That was his usual way with women, well; he thought it would be if Rory had ever brought a woman here. Glancing at the girl again he quickly decided she was not at all Rory's type anyway. Too plain.

"I'm sorry, it's just that I don't recall much of the past few weeks. Do you know what the issue could have been that caused him to leave so quickly?"

"He was going to find out about a song you have been humming." She said with a glint of understanding in her eyes. For the first time he really looked at her; her eyes sparkled in the dim light, and her smooth skin was pale. Her dark hair cascaded down her back. She really had no idea how to dress or to enhance her looks. He thought to himself, no she is not beautiful or even attractive. There is something about her though, striking, that is the word for her.

"A waste of a trip, had he stuck around longer he would have figured it out. Well I guess we will both have to do our best to muddle through his absence. He is by far the better company; I am more what you may call shy." He smiled at her, waiting to see her reaction.

"Then let us both teach each other how to be what you call 'the better company'." She smiled back a big beautiful smile that melted his heart; she looked as a small child might when they are searching for a much loved parents confirmation, she seemed so pure. His discomfort melted away.

"I think that we may have time to become masters." Smiling he was overtaken with a feeling for her that he had never felt before, a genuine attraction.

Authors note: I am going through a big move, so I will update as I can. Thank you for big patient with me during this time, and thank you for reading!


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